|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 14
"I'll never forgive these men for their selfishness in monopolizing all
this," said Elizabeth, with a vicious stroke of a billiard-cue, which
missed the cue-ball and tore a right angle in the cloth. "It is not
right."
"No," said Portia. "It is all wrong; and when we get back home I'm going
to give my beloved Bassanio a piece of my mind; and if he doesn't give in
to me, I'll reverse my decision in the famous case of Shylock _versus_
Antonio."
"Then I sincerely hope he doesn't give in," retorted Cleopatra, "for I
swear by all my auburn locks that that was the very worst bit of injustice
ever perpetrated. Mr. Shakespeare confided to me one night, at one of Mrs.
C�sar's card-parties, that he regarded that as the biggest joke he ever
wrote, and Judge Blackstone observed to Antony that the decision wouldn't
have held in any court of equity outside of Venice. If you owe a man a
thousand ducats, and it costs you three thousand to get them, that's your
affair, not his. If it cost Antonio every drop of his bluest blood to pay
the pound of flesh, it was Antonio's affair, not Shylock's. However, the
world applauds you as a great jurist, when you have nothing more than a
woman's keen instinct for sentimental technicalities."
"It would have made a horrid play, though, if it had gone on," shuddered
Elizabeth.
"That may be, but, carried out realistically, it would have done away with
a raft of bad actors," said Cleopatra. "I'm half sorry it didn't go on,
and I'm sure it wouldn't have been any worse than compelling Brutus to
fall on his sword until he resembles a chicken liver _en brochette_, as is
done in that Julius C�sar play."
"Well, I'm very glad I did it," snapped Portia.
"I should think you would be," said Cleopatra. "If you hadn't done it,
you'd never have been known. What was that?"
The boat had given a slight lurch.
"Didn't you hear a shuffling noise up on deck, Portia?" asked the Egyptian
Queen.
"I thought I did, and it seemed as if the vessel had moved a bit,"
returned Portia, nervously; for, like most women in an advanced state of
development, she had become a martyr to her nerves.
"It was merely the wash from one of Charon's new ferry-boats, I fancy,"
said Elizabeth, calmly. "It's disgusting, the way that old fellow allows
these modern innovations to be brought in here! As if the old paddle-boats
he used to carry shades in weren't good enough for the immigrants of this
age! Really this Styx River is losing a great deal of its charm. Sir
Walter and I were upset, while out rowing one day last summer, by the
waves kicked up by one of Charon's excursion steamers going up the river
with a party of picnickers from the city--the Greater Gehenna Chowder
Club, I believe it was--on board of her. One might just as well live in
the midst of the turmoil of a great city as try to get uninterrupted quiet
here in the suburbs in these days. Charon isn't content to get rich
slowly; he must make money by the barrelful, if he has to sacrifice all
the comfort of everybody living on this river. Anybody'd think he was an
American, the way he goes on; and everybody else here is the same way. The
Erebeans are getting to be a race of shopkeepers."
"I think myself," sighed Cleopatra, "that Hades is being spoiled by the
introduction of American ideas--it is getting by far too democratic for my
tastes; and if it isn't stopped, it's my belief that the best people will
stop coming here. Take Madame R�camier's salon as it is now and compare it
with what it used to be! In the early days, after her arrival here,
everybody went because it was the swell thing, and you'd be sure of
meeting the intellectually elect. On the one hand you'd find Sophocles; on
the other, Cicero; across the room would be Horace chatting gayly with
some such person as myself. Great warriors, from Alexander to Bonaparte,
were there, and glad of the opportunity to be there, too; statesmen like
Macchiavelli; artists like Cellini or Tintoretto. You couldn't move
without stepping on the toes of genius. But now all is different. The
money-getting instinct has been aroused within them all, with the result
that when I invited Mozart to meet a few friends at dinner at my place
last autumn, he sent me a card stating his terms for dinners. Let me see,
I think I have it with me; I've kept it by me for fear of losing it, it is
such a complete revelation of the actual condition of affairs in this
locality. Ah! this is it," she added, taking a small bit of paste-board
from her card-case. "Read that."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|